


Inversion

by somerandomonline



Series: is/was [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Anxious Crowley (Good Omens), Depression, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone's traumatized, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt Crowley, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23148226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somerandomonline/pseuds/somerandomonline
Summary: Recovery, for both of them. Or something resembling it.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: is/was [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641955
Comments: 3
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

Whatever Crowley was, Aziraphale was the inverse. Crowley’s soul was made of fire and heat and love and life. Aziraphale’s soul was empty, nothing but a collection of quirks to hide behind and other people’s pain. Someone who can only express his own pain with other people’s words. He’s wondered if Crowley ever felt similarly, but dismissed the thought of asking - it would bring up questions he doesn’t want to answer, and he already knew what Crowley would say if he did ask. Crowley would give him a worried look and say he was fine as he was, and blame heaven or the humans or something. He’d be wrong though; Aziraphale is the problem. Atrocity after atrocity after reprimand, he’d think it’s me. It’s just me. 

Aziraphale had asked Crowley once, sometime in the late 1100s, if he found physical existence tiring. If he would blink and be somewhere else with no memory of moving. Crowley had laughed with drunken confusion, and Aziraphale had quickly changed the subject.

_It’s me. It’s just me._

In his weaker moments, Aziraphale considered it - letting go. Falling or hellfire, whatever would work. But that was weakness, no matter what he said to humans with similar thoughts. Aziraphale is not human; he is needed in a way no one else is. He is not human; he does not have the time for these thoughts, cannot even consider acting on them. If he left, who would help mankind? Aziraphale couldn’t leave or falter. He was eternal, and it sometimes made him want to scream.

The day the antichrist was born was a good day. When he learned about Armageddon, his first thought was a horrified oh, God. The day before had not been a good day - if Adam had been born one day earlier, would Aziraphale’s first thought have been thank God? Stupid question; of course it would have been, because Aziraphale is nothing if not selfish. 

“I am an angel, Crowley. I have a single purpose. Nothing more or less”

“That doesn’t mean you deserve this, angel! Please, listen to me. You told me before, that we deserve to be happy. That we’ll be happy. You can’t keep burning yourself out” 

“We can be happy, Crowley. I am - nothing has to change”

“For fuck’s sake, Aziraphale! You’ve barely been cognizant the past two weeks and can’t hold your corporation together! This isn’t normal. Let me help you, please”

“Only if I can help you, heart”

“This is about you. I’m fine”  
“I know what panic attacks look like, Crowley” Even as Crowley froze, Aziraphale couldn’t bring himself to feel bad. Crowley shouldn’t be looking after him, it was supposed to be the other way around.

“I, I don’t need help, Aziraphale”

“So, there’s no problem. You mentioned going to the observatory, would you like to do that tonight?” Crowley looked at him, shock and sadness on his face. 

“Angel… we did that two nights ago”

“...Oh”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get worse

Neither of them slept that night, or the night after. Crowley was almost successful at hiding his increasing anxiety, and Aziraphale tried to stay, even as he felt himself drowning in guilt and sadness. He was the responsible one, the protector. Crowley’s pain was loud and bright, steeped in anger that hungered for hope and self destruction. Aziraphale was more subtle, trading anger and hope for resignation and an unconditional love for everyone except himself.

“Angel, have any plans?”

“Not tonight, heart”

“Well, I have souls to fall and people to tempt, so I’ll be going out. I’ll be back by morning”

“Have fun, dear. I love you”

“Love you too” Crowley drove to one of Soho’s seedier clubs. It was almost too easy - adultery, drugs, and bribes were absurdly enticing for the club’s patrons. As he passed through, he felt more than saw the atmosphere change, becoming more hedonistic and cruel. He repeated the routine three more times, smiling widely by the time he made his way back to the Bentley. While he may be separated from hell, Crowley was still a demon. He could no more give up tempting than Aziraphale could give up blessing. His smile disappeared as he thought about it further. Could Aziraphale get better? You couldn’t recover when you were knee deep in whatever you were recovering from. Maybe this was it. Maybe half lives filled with fear were the best two immortals without sides could get. Everything had consequences. Humans traded paradise for knowledge, Aziraphale traded hope for freedom. They had both seen what happens to those without hope, and Aziraphale was smart. He could get hellfire behind Crowley’s back. He drove faster, but he was still having a full blown panic attack by the time he arrived back at the bookshop. Aziraphale met him at the door, worry on his face.

“Crowley, love, what happened? I’m here, you’re safe” Crowley gasped for breath, hands shaking as he embraced his angel.

“Oh, love, I’m sorry. Let’s come inside”

“Angel” Crowley’s voice was quiet, but at least his breathing had evened out slightly.

“Hello, love. Everything is absolutely fine” This was, of course, a blatant lie for multiple reasons, but Aziraphale could deal with that once he got Crowley inside and safe.

“Crowley, dear, has anything happened? I need you to answer me, heart. Did anything happen?”

“Thought too much. Stupid brain. Angel, you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, darling. Come upstairs, get some sleep” Aziraphale ignored the shadows on the edge of his vision, swearing internally. Of all the times for Crowley to have a panic attack, now was probably the worst. He walked Crowley to the bedroom, only to be pulled onto the bed with him. Shit, now was not the time.

“Excuse me, love” Aziraphale got out of the bed and willed Crowley to sleep for a few hours. Aziraphale felt the illusions on himself and the bookshop flicker and die. He winced when he saw the state of his shop, taking it in for the first time since the fight. Shelves had been knocked over and books were scattered around the floor, which was sticky with angelic and demonic blood. The corporations of three demons lay on the floor, one of them next to an empty syringe. Aziraphale was fairly certain he knew what it had contained, which was especially worrying given the demon had managed to stab him with it. He rolled up his sleeve, looking at the bruise where he’d gotten stabbed. Distinctive dark lines were radiating away from it, gradually fading. So, he was right. Aziraphale swore to himself and climbed back upstairs, shaking Crowley awake.

“Go ‘way”

“There’s a small problem, and you don’t need to worry-” Crowley sat up, hissing when he saw Aziraphale.

“The fuck happened to you?”

“I’ll be fine, but while you were away, hell attacked, and the shop was absolutely destroyed, and -” Aziraphale held out his arm. Crowley swore.

“Okay, how long ago were you injected? This stuff is bad, Angel”

“I’ve seen it before, heart. And I’m already feeling the first effects” Crowley rubbed his eyes, and moved to stand up, but Aziraphale grabbed his arm. 

“Okay, angel, I’m here. Now, this is going to be a rough few days, so is there anything you need?” Aziraphale shook his head.

“Don’t go, Crowley. Please, don’t go”

“I’m here angel, I’m here. You’ll be okay, you’ll be okay” Crowley snapped Aziraphale into pajamas and put a blanket over him, wrapping his arms around the semi-conscious angel.

“You’ll be okay, angel. I love you, and you’re going to be okay. I love you and…”


	3. Chapter 3

Crowley was going to find whoever invented Invict and kill them in ways that hadn’t been invented. And then he would do the same to everyone they had ever met. Invict was several curses mixed together and turned into liquid form. It worked on angels and demons alike, trapping them in the horrors of their own minds. Aziraphale would be hallucinating vividly for about a day before the effects gradually wore off. Aziraphale shifted, muttering to himself.

“Shh, angel, it’s okay, you’re safe”

_I really am too moronic to live, Aziraphale thought. It had barely been two years since the second world war, and for a moment, he had thought they might, as Crowley would say, get a fucking clue. Honestly, the entire 20th century had been one idiotic event after another. Aziraphale stood up and smoothed his coat. Heaven had never sent aid before, but he might be able to sway them with what had happened in Germany and Japan. It would be different this time, he thought. It had to be._

_When he returned from heaven, he went to the bookshop and tried not to think of hellfire._

“Please, no. You have to help them. You have to, please, please”

“I know, angel. I’m sorry”

_Aziraphale knelt by the old man’s side, trying vainly to stop the bleeding. He gasped for air whimpering softly.  
“Have no fear, for you are in the arms of the Lord”  
“But… I don’t see a light” his voice faded and breathing stopped. Aziraphale closed his eyes and stood up. He made his way over to the next victim, beginning the familiar prayer.  
“Have no fear…”_

“Angel, angel, love, you did everything you could”

_The man laughed to himself. “You know, Ezra, someone said that their pain made them stronger, ya know. Can you believe that? Don’t everybody know that pain just, oh you know what I mean”_

_“I’m sure they were just trying to be optimistic, Charles. More tea?” Humanity was so hopeful, believing that pain brought anything other than fragility. Charles held out his cup, and began talking about his time in the army as Aziraphale poured them both tea._

“I don’t understand. How could you do that to them? How?”

“I know, Aziraphale. It’s hard. I love you”

_Demons thrived in sin and pain, while angels wilted. Strangely, kindness and love had no particular effect on either. Aziraphale had wondered why angels weren’t energized during happier, or even more pious, times, but had assumed there was some sort of cosmic balancing act at work; demons didn’t have Grace, after all. But Aziraphale would look at Crowley, sometimes, in nightclubs and revolutions and wars, and the way he burned, even while helping, and wonder. If it was a balancing act, or Aziraphale’s own impotence. If angels were energized by love, but there had never been enough love on Earth to have an effect._

“It’s because they’re alone, you know. Look what happened to us, and they live and die alone. Of course they hurt each other”

“Oh, angel, no one’s ever really alone, even when they think they are. You’re with me, love. I’ve got you”

Crowley held his angel tightly, talking to him until he went still. Aziraphale had been hallucinating for hours, occasionally muttering to himself. He switched languages frequently, sometimes mid- sentence. Only a few more hours until the hallucinations began to subside, then a few days of recovery, and everything would go back to normal.

Aziraphale awoke several exhausting hours later, tears in his eyes.

“Crowley?”

“Aziraphale? Let me handle any more rogue demons, okay?” When Aziraphale didn’t respond, Crowley became even more worried, if that was even possible.

“It’s us, Crowley. Mostly me, but … it’s us”

“I’m going to need a little more context, love”

“Oh, heart. I can’t tell you, you know. You’ll figure it out, and leave. Selfish, but I don’t want you to go”

“What’ll I figure out angel? You’ve always been the smart one” Aziraphale blinked up at him, touching Crowley’s face reverently, despair on his face. He’s still drugged, Crowley thought. It hasn’t had time to work its way out of his system, and he’s never looked at me like that. He never looked at me like I was going to leave.

“You’ll realize how weak I am. Heaven hasn’t been right since the fall, that’s not my fault, but after? I’m supposed to help people, nothing else. There is nothing there, Crowley. All I am is a few personality quirks and other people’s pain. I am nothing. All I am here for is to help. And I can’t even do that. People die alone and hurt each other and I can’t help them. I have one job and I can’t do it. Who would want to be with me? That’s why I can’t tell you” 

“Oh, angel. It’s not your fault. I’ll never leave you, I promise. I could tell you a million reasons, but if mental illness was cured by logic, we would all be doing a lot better. But, if I said something like that you’d tell me it was wrong. That I have value just by existing. So, that’s what I’m saying to you. Everyone exists, and they are worthy of existing by virtue of existing. You can’t help everyone, and that’s not your fault. It’s not your fault, love” Crowley kissed Aziraphale before willing him to sleep. When he was sure Aziraphale was asleep, Crowley buried his head in his angel’s chest and cried. 

After the next few days passed, things got better. It took two or three days for Aziraphale to fully recover from the Invict, and longer for him to tell Crowley when he thought about finding the nearest hellmouth and walking in. Crowley did, at some point, come to Aziraphale when he had panic attacks instead of running away from him. Things weren’t perfect, but they lived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the end of is/was. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it! I'm not 100 % sure about the last sentence tbh but that's life. Stay safe everyone!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm alive. I am working on a longer story, so that will happen. This is the end of the is/was series. I had a really fun time writing it and I hope you enjoyed reading it! Thanks for reading, and let me know what you think!


End file.
